


Those Chicago Thighs

by enawritesthings



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Patrick, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, ass eating, pete loves patrick's skin, top pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enawritesthings/pseuds/enawritesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was just because Patrick was always so self-conscious and covered from head to toe.  Maybe it was because his skin was so pale and smooth, blond hair barely visible above the knee.  Maybe Pete was just a massive creep.  But he couldn't help it – he was obsessed with Patrick's thighs.</p>
<p>In which Pete is creepy about Patrick's perfect skin and then they have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Chicago Thighs

The air conditioning was broken and it was nine thousand degrees in the van, so everyone was pretty much as naked as the other three would accept (which had started at shorts-required, but as it got hotter, boxers were looking better and better).

“All _right_ , Pete, Jesus, as long as you keep those on,” Andy conceded from the front seat. Pete whooped in victory, then sighed in relief as he whipped his shorts off and threw them into the back of the van. Patrick, seated beside him, glanced down at Pete's lap, then his own, sighed, and slipped his shorts off. They joined Pete's in the back.

This was the first time Pete had ever seen Patrick's bare legs, and he found himself unable to look away. His thighs spread slightly on the seat of the van, thick and creamy white, unmarked by even a freckle. Pete wanted to bite them, to see what they tasted like, to mark Patrick's virgin skin like making tracks in fresh snow. He felt Patrick's eyes on him, and managed to drag his own up to meet them. The blush creeping up Patrick's neck (almost as white and delicious-looking as his legs) was adorable.

“What's your problem?” Patrick grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Pete couldn't help but glance back down, watching the muscles in Patrick's thighs clench and relax as he moved. “Dude, seriously, what are you staring at?”

Pete flashed him a grin. “Just admiring your Ninja Turtle boxers, Pattycakes.”

Patrick flushed deeper red and tugged his hat lower on his forehead. “Shut up, they're the only clean pair I have left.”

Pete didn't think he could get away with putting his head in Patrick's lap while he was in his underwear, and he also didn't trust himself not to do something embarrassing while down there, so he settled for putting his arm around Patrick's shoulders. “It's all right, little buddy, your secret is safe with me.” On a whim, he leaned in and licked a stripe from Patrick's collarbone to his ear.

“Ugh, Pete! I'm all sweaty, gross.” Patrick groaned, but he didn't push Pete away, and he didn't wipe his neck, either. Pete smiled, leaning his head against Patrick's shoulder and letting his hand drop naturally to his side. He stared transfixed at that pale wonderland for the rest of the afternoon, the backs of his fingers just barely brushing electric against Patrick's leg.

That night, after a nice cold shower during which Pete definitely did _not_ jerk off thinking about Patrick, and after laying around naked relishing the hotel's air conditioning (until Patrick threatened to quit the band and fucking walk back to Chicago if he had to unless Pete put some goddamn pants on, seriously Pete, we're sharing a bed), Pete got his second glimpse of naked Patrick. He came out of the bathroom after his shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, giving Pete an unprecedented view of his bare chest and back and arms, soft and pale, blonde hair disappearing against creamy skin.

“Shit,” Patrick grumbled, bent over his duffel bag. “I forgot I'm out of boxers. I guess it's definitely laundry time... but what am I going to wear tonight?”

“I think I have a pair left,” Pete offered, dragging his eyes away from the curve of Patrick's back. “You can borrow them till tomorrow, if you want.”

Patrick threw him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Pete. You're the best. But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll kill you.”

Pete handed Patrick the boxers, grinning. “I know, I know, Trick. Our love is one that dare not speak its name.”

Pete tried not to watch, he really did. He pulled his phone out and everything, but he only had eyes for Patrick. He watched Patrick slide the boxers on under his towel, giving Pete glimpses of leg and a tiny sliver of ass, and he felt his cock twitch when Patrick removed the towel entirely and stood in nothing but boxers. He watched Patrick hang his towel up, then return to the bed and flop down on his stomach with a book.

Pete swallowed hard, trying to ignore how much he wanted to drag his tongue along his skin, pressing kisses into the most sensitive, secret parts of Patrick. Those thick thighs still glistening from the shower, the thin fabric of the boxers clinging to that perfect plump little ass, and the milky expanse of Patrick's back was all too much for Pete. He couldn't help it. He reached out and trailed his fingers down Patrick's spine, half expecting it to ripple like the surface of a pond, but the silky skin stayed smooth. He felt Patrick shiver through his fingertips, barely even heard him ask, “What are you doing?”

Pete didn't have an answer. Patrick turned onto his side to look at him, frowning slightly. “Pete? What's going on?”

“You're just so beautiful,” Pete whispered. His fingers slid down Patrick's ass, palm gently cupping for the briefest moment, before skimming over the warm, buttery slope of Patrick's thigh. Patrick froze, all but his eyes fluttering and his cheeks reddening. Without thinking, Pete leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Patrick's lips.

A small noise escaped from Patrick, almost a sigh, almost a moan. His lips parted beneath Pete's, the tip of his tongue barely brushing Pete's bottom lip. Delighted with this unexpected turn of events, Pete licked his way into Patrick's mouth, biting and sucking gently. Patrick made a high, sweet sound when Pete nibbled his bottom lip, which made Pete want to know what kinds of sounds he could elicit from kissing other parts of Patrick.

Pushing him onto his back, Pete kissed the corners of Patrick's mouth, his cheeks, mouthed at his throat. He licked a trail from just under Patrick's chin to his earlobe, which he sucked into his mouth and nibbled, causing Patrick's breath to hitch. Pete sucked a trail of hickies onto Patrick's neck and collarbone, pausing to taste the hollow of his throat. He tasted like soap and sweat, clean, but undeniably like Patrick. It was intoxicating.

“Pete,” Patrick murmured, tangling a hand in Pete's hair and gently pulling his head up. “What are you doing?” He stroked Pete's cheek softly, a strange look on his face.

“I need to taste you,” Pete whispered reverently, turning his head to catch Patrick's fingers and lick the pads. “I need to touch, to taste you – your skin is so beautiful, Trick, you're like a porcelain doll. I want to mark you up, make you mine.”

Patrick made a soft strangled sound, low in his throat. Pete ducked his head, licking at Patrick's nipples, then slid his hands along Patrick's sides. His mouth dripped hot kisses down the soft, blonde trail near Patrick's navel, briefly pausing when it disappeared underneath the waistband of his boxers. Pete hooked his thumbs under the fabric, slowly tugging them down, glancing up nervously as though he were expecting Patrick to stop him, but Patrick just lifted his hips and allowed himself to be undressed. The boxers came off and Pete found himself face to face with Patrick's cock.

Patrick was hard, his cock thick and slightly darker than the rest of him, straining up towards Pete's mouth. Pete swallowed hard, licking his lips. He'd never thought he'd get this far, and now he wasn't totally sure what he should do next. But he knew what he _wanted_ to do.

“Is this okay?” Pete whispered, trailing his fingers up Patrick's thighs. Patrick nodded, shivering a little when Pete put his mouth gently to the inside of his knee.

“God, yes, Pete,” Patrick breathed, threading his fingers through Pete's hair. “I've wanted – since I met you – please,” he moaned when Pete sucked a bruise into his hip. “Please, more, yes.”

Pete wrapped a hand around Patrick's cock, giving it a few experimental tugs before licking a stripe up the underside. Patrick gasped, tightening his grip on Pete's hair, and twisting his other hand in the sheets. Suddenly Patrick's entire cock was in Pete's mouth, the head bumping lightly against the back of Pete's throat. He was gagging a little bit – Patrick was bigger than he expected – but the noises Patrick was making were well worth it.

Pulling off of Patrick's dick with a soft _pop_ , Pete moved his mouth lower. “I want to taste every inch of you,” he murmured, low and sultry against the crease of Patrick's groin, licking at his balls. Pressing hot kisses against the alabaster skin of Patrick's stomach and chest, Pete slid his body deliciously against Patrick's until they were eye to eye. Every inch of Pete was on fire.

He nuzzled against Patrick's throat, reaching up to kiss him sloppily, then braced himself on his elbow and nibbled his way down from earlobe to collarbone. He leaned close to Patrick's ear and breathed, “Turn over?”

Patrick whimpered, but quickly obliged. He flipped onto his stomach, sliding his arms beneath the pillow and burying his face in it. Pete's breath caught in his throat as he took it all in – the perfect shape of Patrick's ass, the light dusting of freckles across his shoulders, and the impossible smoothness of his back. His skin was so perfect, so pale, so clean. Pete wanted to leave a mark on it.

He leaned over, running a hand over Patrick's ass, watching goosebumps pop up in its wake, and he pressed his lips to it for a moment. Then he bit down. Hard.

“Ow! Pete, fuck!” Patrick cried, a note of pleasure mixed with the pain in his voice. “Jesus, give me a bit of warning next time.”

“Sorry,” Pete grinned, not at all sorry. He watched his teethmarks disappear slowly. “I'm going to do it again,” he warned, then bit down in the same spot, sucking hard on the sensitive skin.

“Jesus,” Patrick moaned again, squirming a little beneath Pete's lips.

“You like that?” Pete asked, voice dark, gently licking the spot he'd just bitten. “You like being hurt? I didn't know you were so kinky, Rickster.”

Patrick shrugged awkwardly, his face reddening. “I'm not. I mean – I don't know, I don't think I am. I just – it's _you_ , and it did kind of feel good, and... I don't know...” He trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

Pete ran his hand down Patrick's back, soothing him. “Don't worry, I get it.” He pressed a soft kiss just underneath the swell of Patrick's ass. Then Pete got a brilliant, amazing idea. He grabbed Patrick's ass, one cheek in each hand, squeezing hard and pulling them apart, and before Patrick had any idea what was happening, Pete ran his tongue all the way from Patrick's balls to the small of his back.

“Pete!” Patrick exclaimed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “That's so gross!”

“It's not – you just showered,” Pete pointed out, digging his fingers into Patrick's thighs, admiring the dimples from his fingertips. “I want to. Can I?”

Patrick shifted nervously, but didn't try to get away. “Y-you're sure you want to?”

“I really, really do.”

Sighing, Patrick nodded. Pete grinned, giving Patrick's ass a quick slap, then carefully spread his cheeks and went down. Patrick gasped as Pete's tongue slipped inside him, then moaned as a finger followed. Pete spread him open, fingering him slowly, licking deeper and deeper into his ass, and Patrick couldn't help it anymore – with an impatient moan, he thrust his hips up, pressing his ass into Pete's mouth. Pete groaned, wrapping his hands around Patrick's hips, _devouring_ him. He fucked Patrick's asshole with his tongue for several seconds, both of them making inhuman noises, until neither of them could stand it.

“Patrick,” Pete gasped, wiping his mouth as he pulled away, “can I please fuck you? I want – I need to fuck you.”

“Fuck, yes, fuck,” Patrick panted, fisting the sheets. “How do you want me?”

“Fucking – shit, man, I want – I want you to ride me.” Pete's voice was wrecked, rough and deep.

Patrick shivered, but he got to his knees. Pete yanked his shorts down and stepped out of them, already palming his cock as he positioned himself on the bed. Patrick was speechless. He'd seen Pete naked before, obviously – they all had, whether they wanted to or not – but he'd never _noticed_. He'd never seen Pete _jerking himself off_.

Pete leaned over, rummaging through his bag until he found a bottle of lube and a condom. He rolled the condom on, then slicked himself up, tossing the bottle aside. “Ready?” He was breathless, staring at Patrick like he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Patrick nodded, swallowing hard. He crawled over, straddled Pete and lined himself up, then slowly sank down onto Pete's cock.

“Holy fuck,” Pete breathed, eyes widening before they closed as he dropped his head back onto the pillow. “Fuck, man, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” Patrick braced himself on his arms, leaning over Pete. He slowly rolled his hips, eliciting a long, low moan from Pete. “You like that?” He whispered.

“Patrick, Jesus, don't fucking talk to me like that,” Pete groaned, his fingers clutching at Patrick's hips to still them. “You're going to make me come in like, two seconds, fuck.”

Pete bent his knees, legs spread, and pushed Patrick back into a sitting position. He thrust upwards with his hips, bouncing Patrick slightly. Patrick gasped as Pete's dick hit his prostate, and Pete did it again.

“Fuck yes, Trick, this is what I wanted,” Pete panted, hands wrapped around Patrick's waist, watching him bounce on his dick. He brushed his fingertips up and down Patrick's soft sides, over his chest and belly, down his chubby thighs. “Goddamn, you're beautiful.”

Patrick blushed, then moaned as he sank all the way down on Pete's cock. “You know I've always wanted you,” he murmured, leaning forward to press hot kisses to Pete's chest and neck. “This isn't... this isn't some sort of elaborate prank, is it? Or are you just looking to get off and you knew I'd be into it?”

Pete reached for Patrick, a pained look on his face. “God, no, I would never do that,” he said, sitting up so they were chest to chest. Patrick let out a yelp as Pete was pushed deeper into him, but he stayed straddling Pete, looking everywhere but his face. “Trick, do you really think I would _fuck_ you as – as a _joke_? You don't think I want you? I climb all over you every night, I tell you we're soul mates, I -”

“Yeah, but -”

“But nothing, Patrick, I fucking love you.” Pete put one hand on Patrick's cheek, slowly turning his head so they were nose to nose. Softly, he added, “You have to know that, right?”

Patrick was silent. Pete frowned. “Fine, then,” he growled, holding Patrick close and flipping them over. He braced himself above Patrick, dick still deep inside him, and said, “I'm going to make you believe it if I have to fuck you through the fucking floor, dude.”

A moan escaped Patrick's lips, quickly followed by another as Pete began to fuck him in earnest, shoulders pressed under Patrick's knees, fingers bruising the tender flesh on Patrick's hips.

“Oh fuck yeah, you feel amazing. God, Patrick, I've wanted you since we met, you're so fucking beautiful, your skin looks like fucking porcelain or some shit, so smooth and white and creamy,” Pete rambled, hips snapping forward into Patrick as hard as he could. “Fuck, I just want to lick you and touch you, taste you, fuck you, all the time.”

“Pete,” Patrick moaned, head thrown back on the bed. “Fuck, I'm close, I'm – gonna -”

“Shit yeah, fucking come for me, dude,” Pete panted, bracing himself on his arms, fucking Patrick harder, down into the mattress. “Fuckin shoot all over me, man, fuck -”

Patrick let out a shaky groan as he came, long spurts of thick white, roping across Pete's chest and his own stomach. Some of it hit Pete's face, streaking his cheek and chin, making him grunt and moan as he came deep inside Patrick.

“Shit, that was hot,” Pete gasped, pulling out of Patrick and collapsing to the side of him. 

“Hell yeah, it was,” Patrick agreed, turning to grin at Pete. “Think we could do it again sometime?”

Pete grinned back and kissed Patrick on the tip of his nose. "I think that could be arranged."


End file.
